


A Candle to Light the Way

by misura



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s05e10 Mother's Mercy, Gen, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Season/Series 05, Stannis Baratheon Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 01:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20922032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "We lost," Stannis said. "We - no,Ifailed. I failed my men, I failed my brothers, I failed my wife, my daughter. I failed everyone.""You did not fail me, Your Grace," Davos said. (post-S5 finale)





	A Candle to Light the Way

Davos recalled little from his trip after he reached the battlefield - if such it could be called; to Davos's admittedly non-military gaze, it looked more like a field of slaughter, with a depressing number of the dead wearing Stannis's colors and far fewer identifiable as Bolton men.

He had gotten a horse, and some provisions, and an apology that would do neither him nor Stannis any good whatsoever, and then he had left to report his failure to his king. He had ridden hard, perhaps because part of him had already known what he would find.

More likely, Davos admitted to himself, he had hoped to find that it was not yet too late. To find Stannis still undecided, Shireen safe and alive, her mother's willingness to sacrifice all in the name of the Lord of Light notwithstanding.

His dismount was clumsy, like that of a man dazed by drink. His horse shied away as he reached for it. Davos was tempted to secure it, but it would mean losing yet more time, which seemed undesirable.

With any luck, the horse would settle and stay near.

With no luck - well, dead men required no mounts, and the gods might yet find a use for a horse with saddlebags full of food.

He found Stannis more or less by accident, because rather than killing him out of hand, Stannis's would-be killer seemed intent on making conversation first.

Davos hit them over the head before they even realized he was there. They dropped like a sack of potatoes, leaving Stannis staring up at him.

"What did you have to go and do that for?" Stannis sounded a bit annoyed, a lot tired.

"Your Grace," Davos said. He wanted to ask about Shireen, about Selyse, but he also realized that he might very well not like the answers Stannis would give him. "If I misinterpreted the situation, I can but offer you my humble apologies, but it seemed to me that this ... this woman's intentions towards you were of a rather hostile nature."

"Renly's kingsguard." Stannis snorted. "Not that he had any right to such, of course. Still."

Davos swallowed. He remembered the shadow, the abomination he had helped bring into this world for however brief a time it had existed. Long enough to kill a man.

"Still," he said, at a loss for something else to say. This was not a good place for conversation; they ought to find a pair of horses and a place to shelter, to hide from the Boltons. Returning to Castle Black might be an option, even if the Lord Commander had refused Stannis's earlier requests for aid.

"We lost," Stannis said. "We - no, _I_ failed. I failed my men, I failed my brothers, I failed my wife, my daughter. I failed everyone."

"You did not fail me, Your Grace," Davos said.

"Oh, but I did," Stannis said. "You, I failed most of all. I should have listened to you."

"You did." Davos's mouth felt dry. He had clung to a fantasy, he realized; imagined the possibility of Stannis having sent away Shireen before the battle somehow, with some of his men. "You always listened, Your Grace. If you did not always take my advise, well, I am not king."

Stannis's would-be executioner groaned.

"Go," Stannis said. "I will tell her you had nothing to do with Renly's death."

Davos decided not to point out that this would be a lie. "I will be happy to leave this place, Your Grace. As long as you will go with me."

Stannis scowled. There was blood on his armor, though how much of it was his and how much of it was that of other people, Davos did not care to guess. "I'm done. It's over."

"Where there's life, there's hope," Davos said. "You may not become king, even if you have the right, and I may never walk the streets of King's Landing as the King's Hand, but that does not mean we cannot still make something of our lives."

"Leave," Stannis said. "Now. Your king commands you, Ser Davos."

"My king should know better than to give me an order he knows I will not obey," Davos said. "Can you stand, Your Grace? I will find us some horses."

Horses would make them more conspicuous, but it would also give them speed. Davos judged the trade-off worthwhile. Besides, he was not sure Stannis would be able to walk for any length of time.

"I should have left you in your cell to rot," Stannis said. "Or ordered your execution."

"My life might have been a great deal less interesting if you had," Davos said. "In addition to being a lot shorter, of course. Still, we must make the best of things as they are."

"She screamed, you know," Stannis said. "Begged me to come and save her. Right until the end, she believed I would. That all it'd take would be for me to hear her. She didn't know that I was right there. Watching. Doing nothing."

Davos closed his eyes. "Your Grace. Now is hardly the time to speak of such matters. I beg you. Let me find us a pair of horses, so that we may leave this place." She would have screamed, yes. Everyone did.

Being burned alive was an awful way to die. And with Shireen, there would have been no Jon Snow, to grant some small measure of mercy.

"You loved her," Stannis said.

"As if she were my own," Davos said.

"Not the best choice of words, considering," Stannis said.

Davos hesitated. He could not offer forgiveness, he knew. Not yet. Perhaps never. But Stannis was still Stannis, the man Davos had sworn to serve. The man he believed deserved to be king.

"Your Grace. If you die here, what then? Is that any way to honor her memory? Are you as weak as that, to not even wish to attempt to make amends? Would you go to the gods with her blood still on your hands, and nothing to balance it but that you're sorry? I cannot believe that you would."

"How does a man amend for something like that?" Stannis asked.

"I don't know, Your Grace," Davos said. He was close to winning Stannis over, he felt. "However, I would be happy to help you find out. Unless you wish to see me dead, I suggest you let me. The longer we stay here, the better the chances of the Boltons happening upon us."

Stannis sighed. "Fine. You win. Anything we can do for _her_, you think?" He gestured towards the woman in armor. "Don't think she and the Boltons are friends, exactly."

"A fair assumption, given that the Boltons have no friends." Davos considered. "My horse is nearby, with provisions in the saddlebags to last several days."

"Good enough," Stannis decided. "Very well. Go find us a pair of horses, Ser Davos."

Davos bowed to hide his smile. "As you wish, Your Grace."


End file.
